Seven Minutes in Heaven
by Sus-aka-Susie
Summary: Maybe Heaven and Hell aren't that different after all. Trory.


Title: Seven Minutes in Heaven

Disclaimer: Characters are clearly not mine.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Maybe Heaven and Hell aren't that different after all.

Pairing: like there was ever any question, Trory.

Dedication: To Sur for giving me the premise and the occasional prod to actually finish this thing. To Nat for some early tweaking without which this might have been even more cliché ridden than I care to admit. And to James for wadding through my endless run-ons in order to help make this coherent and for always pushing me.

Seven Minutes in Heaven. The game would be more appropriately titled Seven Minutes in Hell, because that is where she was sure she was, locked in a dark closet with a boy she claimed to hate and a group of teenagers waiting on the other side of the door, ready to pounce as soon as time was up. Seven minutes wasn't really a long time, or at least it never had been in the past. Now it seemed like forever and she was already regretting her decision to come to this party, but after her second split with Dean and her small social circle at school still on the rocks she decided it could do her no real harm, boy was she wrong.

Tristan cleared his throat as his eyes began to focus in the dark closet, the only bit of light coming from the small gap between the end of the door and the carpet. This is what he had been waiting for all year; well not this exact scenario but this opportunity with her and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to make the best of it.

He pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against since they entered the closet moments before, taking two steps forward. He was effectively in her personal space and a smirk curled his lips as one of his hands ran up her arm. "This must be a dream come true for you, Mary."

A disgusted snort escaped her lips as she jerked her body back, hitting the wall behind her. "More like a nightmare come to life."

He took a final step closer, trapping her between him and the wall, their bodies were practically touching and she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke, "So, you do dream about me. You know, I dream about you too, perhaps we could use our time here and reenact some of them."

"That's a nice thought but I don't think there are any sharp objects in this closet so maybe later," she deadpanned.

"Kinky. I always knew you had a wild side, but since that doesn't seem to be an option at the moment, perhaps you could aid me in bringing some of mine to life." His hand continued to run along her arm, occasionally brushing against her side, the constant movement not affording her the opportunity to brush it off, instead she gritted her teeth in an attempt to ignore him as her body stood rigid beneath him. "What do you say? We still have plenty of time in here, I'm sure we can at least get something started within that time." He dipped his head, stopping just before his lips were to graze her own, "I promise to finish whatever we start after we get out, it's not in my nature to leave a girl unsatisfied."

She was doing her best to tune him out, to ignore how close he was and how she could feel his warm breath on her lips as he spoke and she definitely was trying her best to ignore her rapidly beating heart as she processed his rather overt suggestion; yet she held his gaze, not willing to let him get the best of her. As he stopped speaking and his eyes slipped shut she took the opportunity to quickly turn her head, causing his lips to graze her cheek instead of their intended destination, her lips.

He didn't seem to mind the action as he instead took the opportunity to kiss his way down her jaw to her neck; making the most of the situation. He knew she would push him off of her any second now, but while she took the time to process what was happening he was going to do his damnedest to at least leave her body wanting more.

She didn't disappoint. No sooner had he started to suck on the junction of her neck and shoulder that she managed to regain her bearings enough to push him off and away from her. "Okay, I think we need to establish rules."

"Rules?"

"Yes, rules. You need to stay over there, away from me, that means no touching and definitely no kissing. Perhaps there should be no talking too, we could just stay here for how ever long we have left and not do anything at all. I think that would work out well." As she was talking he moved back into her space, taking advantage of her babbling to move within inches of her before she took notice. "See, no, none of this. You are too close. Okay and now you are touching, these are not the rules."

He chuckled as he continued to lightly run his hands along her sides, ignoring the boundaries she was trying to set up. "Personally, Rory, I think the rules suck. Besides, rules are made to be broken."

"How cliché." She had meant for the words to sound scathing but instead her voice hitched in her throat and actually cracked as he resumed his earlier assault on her neck.

Instead of giving a verbal response he took advantage of her flustered state, grabbing her waist to pull her body closer to his as he moved her back against the wall. His lips stopped at the junction of her shoulder, sucking on the skin to leave a mark. He wanted to make sure she had a reminder of him when she left; something that would brand her as his if only for the few days it took to fade.

With each flick of his tongue and brush of his lips over her flesh her heart rate sped to a rate she knew could not be healthy and her breath continually hitched in her throat. She somehow managed to bring her hands up to his chest, ready to push him off her, she wanted him off her, but when her hands hit solid muscle just as his lips began to move across the open area exposed by her v-neck blouse she instead bunched the material of his shirt in her hands, trying to regain some semblance of control on her senses.

He smirked into her skin as she clenched and unclenched her hands on his shirt, he was sure she was going to push him off of her but instead she had stopped and then her hands had balled almost unconsciously pulling him closer. Ready to take full advantage of their current position and situation his hands started to move from their place on her hips across the small expanse of skin exposed at her stomach before moving upward under her shirt.

The skin beneath his fingers seemed to tingle, leaving a path of fire in their wake, the sensations somehow bringing her back to reality as she managed an almost strangled, "Tristan" which only encouraged him further. Somehow regaining more self-control she used her hands as she originally intended shoving him off of her before crossing them across her chest. "You need to stop."

"Do I?" His tone was suggestive and his smirk taunted her as he raised an eyebrow challenging her statement.

"Yes." She nodded affirmatively punctuating her point. "We can't be doing this."

"And what would _this_ be?" he shot back sounding very much like a petulant child, which was just enough to cause her to be able to harness the emotions that had been whirring inside her into annoyance.

"Kissing me." Her voice was loud in the confined space and seemed to ring in both their ears.

Leaning against the wall nearest him he looked her up and down for a long moment before responding with a leer, "And why is that?"

"Because I don't like it," was her reply and that immediately caused his lips to twitch as he once again moved in closer, invading her space.

"Was that a question or a statement? Because it sounded to me like a question, and if you are asking me, I am going to have to say that it seemed to me that you liked it very much. I know I did."

She silently cursed the opening her tone had left him but stood her ground all the same. "It wasn't a question, I don't like it, I didn't like it." This time she made sure her voice was firm, leaving no room for him to question her motives.

Unfortunately the door had already been opened and Tristan wasn't one to let it shut so easily. "You can tell yourself that all you want, it doesn't make it true. You enjoyed it, all the girls do."

His cocky tone and air of arrogance had her blood boiling; _just who did he think he was, anyway? _She leveled him with a glare as her eyes bore into his, "I'm not all the girls."

A jarringly loud, throaty chuckle escaped his lips at her assertion; _of course she wasn't like all the girls_. It took him a moment to regain his composure but as soon as his eyes met hers, the hurt and anger swirling within them stopped his amusement cold.

"I'm not sure why you find that so amusing, but if it's because you think I am, well you're wrong. I'm not going to just give it up to you because you're Tristan DuGrey." _How naïve could she be, did she really think that is what he thought of her? _

"No, you're going to give it up to me because you want me." His words came out in a seductive purr, and as soon as they left his mouth he waited for the resounding slap that was sure to follow, but it never came. Instead she was standing before him, looking at him almost curiously, and unconsciously biting her bottom lip. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to kiss her.

Her hand deftly reached for the handle on the door, hoping to find it before he realized what she was doing. Unfortunately she was not quick enough and his hand instantly captured her own before using his body to push her against the door. "What do you think you're doing? Our time isn't up, yet."

"Yes. It. Is. Besides I thought I would leave you alone with your ego, I am not so sure there is room enough for me in here." Her tone was caustic and she bore her gaze into his daring him to do something, what she wasn't sure, but that didn't matter, she wasn't about to back down now.

Despite the controlled rage her tone seemed to indicate, he noted that she failed to shake his hand from her own, whether an oversight or not he planned on using it to his full advantage. Not taking his eyes off hers he moved his fingers slowly around her wrist and then almost off her as he chose instead to draw lazy circles on her palm. He watched her carefully, taking in how her breath hitched slightly at the contact and seemed to become increasingly shallow as he for the third time that evening eased her against the wall.

Rory wasn't sure why she wasn't stopping him, why she didn't say anything, but with their gazes locked such as they were she seemed incapable of any movement at all. Whether it was the way his body relaxed into her own or the tantalizing way his fingers were grazing over her palm, tracing patterns at their leisure, she wasn't sure, but something was keeping her immobile.

He stopped less than an inch away from her; she could feel every breath he took as it tickled the skin of her face and through the delicate rise and fall of his chest against her own. She wondered how his breathing could be so normal when hers was increasingly erratic but she didn't raise the question not wanting to call attention to her current disarray.

"It seems to me, _Rory_, there is plenty of room in here. In fact," he spoke in a whisper, having lowered his mouth to her ear, gently tugging it into is mouth during pauses, "I would have to say, there is the perfect amount of space for you."

As soon as he had uttered the words his lips claimed hers, accentuating the point, and not allowing her time to pull away. He somehow managed to draw himself closer to her, his right hand riding up her hip to her stomach and further as his left caressed the skin of her thigh, just beneath her skirt. As his hands edged higher, she wanted to stop him, her head was telling her to stop him, but her body was another story. Her lips were paying no attention to her mind and she found herself kissing him back as the rest of her body arched into his touch. She wanted to scream; she shouldn't be doing this, she couldn't be doing this.

Her body played little heed to her mind as her teeth nipped his lip, only part of her wished to bite to draw blood, stop him from continuing, while the other half wanted to play with him, wind him up as he was her. If she was stuck in a closet with Tristan DuGrey for however long was left she might as well get something out of it. With that thought in mind she allowed one of her hands to snake beneath his t-shirt, tracing the muscles on his back as they twitched beneath her hand, the other was drawing lines along his stomach just above the top of his low slung jeans. An involuntary gasp escaped her mouth as he, now further encouraged by her participation, pushed himself into her, allowing her to feel his reaction to her.

She knew she should pull away, she wasn't supposed to do things like this, and certainly not with Tristan DuGrey; but she couldn't force herself to move. She liked the feel of his hard body pressed into her own, the way he reacted to her touch making her feel wanted in a way she never thought possible and most of all she liked the way he made her feel, the tingling sensation that coursed through her, spurring her on.

Tristan stopped trying to analyze the situation the second she kissed him back, now his one thought was to do whatever he could manage with this girl before she came to her senses and realized what she was doing and more importantly who she was doing it with. His thoughts were broken as her hands dipped into his pants, beneath the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Shocked by her boldness, his lips strayed from hers trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck, before latching onto the junction.

Her head lolled back so it rested on the door as her hands absently kneaded the skin just above his ass. She had stopped thinking; instead relying on the heady passion that was fogging her brain. That is until she felt her back start to move and her head slipped further back: not things that were supposed to happen when sandwiched between solid wall and solid man, her mind rationalized. It was only then that she heard the chatter of her classmates fill her ears and as her eyes shot open she noted the dark closet was getting brighter.

Alarm bells went off in her head as she wretched her hands off of him and pushed him off her, sending him clumsily to the floor.

"What the hell?" She glared at him; not wanting to waste her time explaining what she felt was obvious as the door opened further. She desperately tried to smooth her clothes and hair in a flurry of motion as she turned to face the now open door.

The room seemed to stop and everyone was looking at her. More specifically they were all gaping at the hickeys Tristan had left on her exposed skin. _This can't be happening,_ her mind reeled. She needed to get out of there, _now_.

So caught up in her own mini-freak-out Rory barely registered Tristan lifting himself off the floor and standing behind her. She did notice his hands as they held her sides, somehow keeping her from moving. His head dipped to her ear and he spoke in a raspy whisper. "This isn't finished. You run now, it better be to my car." He nipped her ear before finishing, "I'll be waiting." Then he straightened himself up and made his way out of the party, all the while slapping hands and accepting congratulations.

Rory watched him leave, rooted in her spot as her mind took over. The rational part told her to leave and not look back, the rest of her told her to leave and follow him out. Everyone was watching her now, waiting to see what she would do. She couldn't help but overhear their not-so-quiet whispers of shock. It was the snide comment whispered in her ear, by a rather busty blonde, telling her it was best she stayed put as there was no way she could give Tristan DuGrey what he wanted anyway that made up her mind for her. Her stubborn streak coming out full force she made her way out, besides, Hell wasn't so bad after all and she had wasted much of her seven minutes. Might as well collect.


End file.
